


breakfast in question

by sugarby



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dialogue Heavy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 17:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17985707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarby/pseuds/sugarby
Summary: The quirky, morning dynamic of a single father with an obvious crush and his precocious teenage daughter.





	breakfast in question

**Author's Note:**

> A spruce up and repost of what was previously a part of my Borderlands collection in 2016. It's not _great_ but I just don't like the idea of compiling stories that _can_ be read by themselves anymore.
> 
> _*the synopsis has nothing to give away because this fic is literally ~~me trying to be funny with~~ a back and forth between Jack and Angel._

Angel relaxes on her heels from standing on the tip of her toes to peer in to the far corners of a top cupboard. Seeing nothing, not even a stale pop tart or box of expired cereal, her disappointment shows in a frown, is heard in a grumble. She rubs her stomach apologetically, "Hey, we need to get reacquainted with the store real soon."

"Again?" a groan in the near distance replies, "Didn't we just go there, like, yesterday?"

" _Last week_. That's the thing," Angel walks out in to the hallway to converse in person, presenting folded arms and a tired expression to her father excessively fixing himself before a tall mirror.

He looks the way he usually does with his iconic, wild quiff angled to the sky, his bright sweater under expensive layers of power and business, his sculptured mask capturing his characteristic expressions while simultaneously shielding a betraying scar. Nothing different. No less than  _handsome_ , as his title literally defines.

"Most families do their grocery shopping  _weekly_. And, as you've convinced me for the last sixteen years of my life, we fit that criteria. Of being a family, not  _normal_. And most families eat proper meals. As much as I love ordering out, there's only so much of that I can eat before it starts ruining my body."

Jack makes an arguable 'ehh' in dismissal, "Worst case scenario: you get stomach ache."

"Or die from lack of nutrition."

"Which would solve your issue with us not being a," He theatrically air-quotes, "'normal family'. Wouldn't it, princess?"

It would, but in the long-run it'll turn out to be even more of a hassle than pretending they're a happy, ordinary family to neighbours who ask where her mother is, who persist, time and time again, that her father's aggressiveness needs professional nurturing before he kills someone.

' _Again'_ , she notes, because air-locking people in to space is sort of a pastime of her father's.

"What ingeniously twisted parental tactics you have."

"You're right, Kiddo." He pats her head, smirking. "I am a  _genius_."

"Selective hearing at it's finest." she says under her breath, though her father's whistling tunes her out anyway. These are the antics of a forty-something year old she deals with on a recurring basis. She lets him have his way, usually, to save herself a headache later, unless whatever he wants is in violation of allowing her a lifestyle of her choice. "We got a call earlier, by the way. Manager from the place we ordered from the other night says we can't anymore."

"Huh. Shame." Jack's tone isn't sympathetic.

"Apparently, the nice guy who delivered to us got so scared he came back in tears. Almost quit, too. Know anything about that?"

"He wasn't that  _nice_. And the kid had a head shaped like a friggin' stretched—"

" _Dad_."

"What?! He did! Plus, he forgot the stupid fortune cookie you asked for!"

"You went off at the delivery guy for  _that_?!" She shouldn't need to even use her tone to imply that's all kinds of wrong and senseless. Most families—that is, the normal ones—don't make an issue of this; they accept an apology and move on. But no, she has Handsome Jack as her father and a hundred anecdotes of his irrationality. Guess they'll be relying on the town's second best pizza place from now on. "You may not realise this, but being a father automatically obligates you to be an adult and behave appropriately."

"Hey, if my baby girl wants a cookie holding baseless fabrications of her future, then she's damn well gonna get one!"

This is one of those  _many_  times when arguing with him is too much effort.

"Understood." Angel sighs and goes up a couple stairs. Not hearing any movement from behind, she looks back and her father's still fiddling, sweeping strands of hair and giving himself quite the intense stare. She nips in a laugh but is smiling nevertheless, "Meeting someone special are we, Jack?"

"That's 'Dad' to you."

"It's for Rhys, isn't it?"

" _Angel_."

"Hey, I support this." Whatever 'this' is, she isn't entirely sure, but knows it's related to their neighbour and her father's not so subtle interest with him. Watching him interact is like watching a school boy pick on a pretty girl because he doesn't know what else to do other than pull her hair.  _Or_ , in Jack's circumstance, make fun of and panic with threats every now and then. "It's okay to be nervous about testing the waters with a potential partner. Who is also your employee and at least twenty years younger than you.

"And I," Jack turns, brows sternly narrowed, "Support sending you to school in your pyjamas if you don't get up those stairs and dressed in the next two seconds!"

"I don't think social services would be keen on my lifetime of humiliation. Don't be scared, it's—"

"Scared? I'm not scared. _You're_ scared." Jack makes an immaturely dismissive sound on his way to the front door, but it does nothing to convince his daughter. "Angel-cakes, sweetie, no one says 'no' to Handsome Jack and lives."

 _'No one speaks in the third person either'_  she thinks. "Just, good luck. And be nice, Dad, there aren't a lot of Rhys's in the world."

Their neighbour isn't like anyone her father's met in the past. Not an outlaw or body double (she celebrates this, because her father is narcissistic enough to consider it), but a kind person. He's taller than average, dresses a little out there too and he's nerdy as hell about tech, but he has this charm, and he's reliable. Angel won't say she's imagined her life with him as her second father, but—

Jack snorts. "With a name like that, I'm not surprised."

"Don't forget the mail this time!" She says on his way out just before the door closes. After a sigh and a quick prayer to whatever existent Gods are on her side, she heads upstairs to finally get dressed for school.

When she comes back down, Jack's pressed against the door, their mail in hand, his expression quite rocked.

Angel smiles fondly. Whenever Rhys is involved, her father loses his cool a bit. She remembers clearly when they ran in to him at the store and, a casual conversation later, left with a box of fish food.

> Rhys had half-jokingly but quite legitimately said while passing the pet aisle, _"Cats are heartless demons. Dogs aren't so bad. Ah, but Fish are easy; they don't remember if you forget to feed them."_

Jack sweeps his quiff back, relaxing his nerves, "Shit. I'm so much better than this. I have to be."

"Two hundred."

"Uh," he focuses, squinting the blur of the world away, on the SW34R jar in front of his face. "Excuse me?"

Angel shakes the jar again and the coins and few notes inside shuffle around,  "Come on,  _you_ upped it last month, and I'm in charge of the "Angel Needs a Life, Send Help" fund."

"And I'm in charge of your allowance, and there's gonna be a big decrease if you don't stop shaking that thing in my face!"

"Damn? That's fifty."

" _Angel_!"

"What happened out there?"

"Nothing! Just lost my damn nerve, is all. What if, you know? What if, as awesome, great and  _Goddamn handsome_  as I am, he's just gonna see me as his boss? Crazy, right? I mean, the whole 'master, servant' thing is a major turn on—"

"Dad!" Angel's hand fly to her ears. "Don't finish that sentence, I'd like to look Rhys in the eye again."

Jack grins, "Oh, I'd like to be able to do things with Rhys too, Kiddo."

"Dad, seriously!"

He laughs and pats her head, "Come on, let's get you to school."

They leave the house together and walk in sync down the paved path toward their car.

Angel looks across to her right where their neighbour is heading out to work at the same time, a mug of coffee in one hand and a satchel across his body. "Hey, Rhys, morning!" 

Rhys notices her, smiles, and his prosthetic arm waves back.

Angel says, "Despite the way I go on at you, Dad, I think you deserve to be happy. We both do."

"Amen to that, Kiddo."

"And please tell Rhys we don't have a pet fish."

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted the chance to write Angel teasing Jack about a crush.


End file.
